Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue
Ten thousand women all dressed in white
Ten thousand men on the move
Ten thousand women all dressed in white
Spilling my buttermilk, sweeping it up with a broom
None of them doing nothin'
Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail
Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold
Each one of 'em got seven wives
Each one of 'em just out of jail
Ten thousand women all sweepin' my room
Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue
Standin' at my window wishing me goodnight
Some of 'm goin' down
In the evening they'll be coming for you
That your mama wouldn't disapprove
Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail
Baby, thank you for my tea
All clean shaven, all coming in from the cold
Hey, who could your lover be?
Some of 'm gonna get killed
Ooh, baby, thank you for my tea
Drummin' in the morning
Let me eat off his head so you can really see
Ten thousand women all sweepin' my room
Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold
Ten thousand men on the move
Hey, who could your lover be?
